


Lowering the Curtain

by magicmumu



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: F/F, sad sad cinnamon roll
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-16
Updated: 2018-05-16
Packaged: 2019-05-07 15:51:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14674362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magicmumu/pseuds/magicmumu
Summary: Quick story of Angie trying to feel her feelings from the safety of the stage on opening night.





	Lowering the Curtain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EmerySaks7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmerySaks7/gifts).



> This was actually supposed to be a lot different but life made it what it is and I kind of like it like this.

Angie was certain she would have been ready for this night. Ever since she was a girl she dreamed of being on this stage, the lights hot and blinding in her eyes. She knew her family was in the audience for opening night, and she finally got the chance to recite the monologue she had memorized since she was in high school. She never thought she would get the lead - she wasn’t even auditioning at the time - but when she received a copy of the play with a time and date, Angie had to go. She felt - no, knew it was from Peggy, a gift to her for leaving Stark’s mansion and therefor her life suddenly without explanation. It wasn’t the first of little things in her life to just pop up, which was nice knowing Peggy still thought of her sometimes, but it wasn’t what she wanted. She wanted the woman herself, but when she got the part, she hoped she would be there in the seats. She hoped to maybe tell her that somehow. A curious glance two minutes before the curtain rose had no signs of the agent, and Angie’s heart sunk into some of the despair she hoped the character felt. That despair turned into anger, rushing hot and strong like the heat of the lights. Her lip curled, her eyes misted, and then… nothing. She took a breath and went on stage as she was supposed to, got all of her lines and ques exactly as she should, but her big part had her cramping in her chest and the anger back in full force. The anger wasn’t at poor Charles, who bore the brunt of it in character, but to Peggy. How could she just leave like this with no warning? How could she enter her life and then rip herself from her heart so violently? Perhaps that was why Peggy had been so hesitant, knowing that her life would lead her away from Angie, sooner rather than later. Perhaps this really was all Angie’s fault. If she hadn’t pushed, if she hadn’t been so persistent….

Her anger went toward herself, her heart breaking all over again as she delivered her lines and thought of nights on the sofa drinking and talking, of her life so drastically changed by one Agent Carter. She remembered the note on the kitchen table one morning when Angie wanted to badly to tell her of the dream she had, cutting herself off when she realized the mansion was quiet for a reason, and would remain so. She let her voice raise, her scowl growing severe as she thought of the apologies and ‘it’s classified’ in the letter, all that was ever given to her as she never hears from Peggy again, since Angie sure as heck didn’t count the book of plays as correspondence. Her voice went softer, enough to be heard by the crowded theater, her words crisp as each point was delivered, her finger jabbing a bit too painfully into Charles’ chest. She turned away as Charles tried to speak to her, his character arguing back when Angie couldn’t hear it. Only his hand on her shoulder brought her to her line as she wished Peggy was there, hearing her words, feeling her emotions as strongly as she was. She was so MAD but she still loved her so dearly, and that made her even angrier. She had so much to say, so much that as Angie and as her lead character she couldn’t quite say, but it all didn’t even seem to matter. She was relieved when it came time for her to cry. Her tears were just as hot and unstoppable as they were meant to be in the script. In fact, she hadn’t been able to cry on command in rehearsals, but there they were now, startling Angie and Charles both. All of this because of the odd thought that maybe, just MAYBE Peggy was there, would be there.

This was for Peggy, these tears, the anger, the confusion and frustration that she had left Angie with. At intermission Angie wiped her eyes and calmed her breathing. People came by, patted her on the back and told her she was doing great. She couldn’t hear any of the comments, clapping, or murmurs. She could hear her hear pounding in her chest - at least that mirrored her day dreams of this moment - but she almost felt numb. There was the headache behind her eyes now from the tears, but she rolled her neck and when the curtain went back up after the scene changed, she charged back to her mark to finish what she had started. 

 

She was going to finish this. 

 

This was her night, Peggy or no Peggy. 

 

This was her life, Peggy or no Peggy, and she told the audience that.

 

She told Charles that. 

 

She told Peggy that, should she be cast in shadow somewhere, watching her. 

 

She would hope that Peggy was alright and well and not doing stupid things out there so she can live another day, but she told Charles that she was tired and wanted no more of the life they thought they had together. She told Charles’s character that she would always love him, that they were great once, but she told the Peggy in her head that they missed out on something really great if only it had been known and requited, if only Peggy’s dangerous life wasn’t a factor in it. As the final applause came, she felt relieved of the emotions swirling through her. She felt she could almost be okay without Peggy. Not great, but okay. She could maybe find other friends, even though it may not be the same. As Angie took her well deserved bow she said a silent final goodbye to Peggy. She wouldn’t hope to see the woman again someday. She told herself those days are over now. As the curtains closed and the lights dimmed, Angie hoped she could close the part of her life enriched by Peggy Carter. She would find a new life, as Peggy has, and she too would find happiness.

 

The next morning her resolve crumbled into sobs as she found an article with a raving review of the play wrapped around a single red rose on her vanity. “Oh Peggy.”


End file.
